Day 49: Breach
Eli's heart pounded in his chest, the echo of the knocking reverberating through his mind as the group stood frozen in the grand hall of the museum. The sound was unnervingly calm, methodical, and the air was thick with tension as they waited for whatever came next. Cass had her hand on the door, her knuckles white from the pressure, while Luke and Raya stood ready, weapons in hand, their eyes locked on the entrance.
But then, as the knocking continued, Eli heard something else—something faint, distant, but unmistakable. It was a dull, rhythmic sound, coming from somewhere deep within the museum, on the opposite side from where they were standing. A sound that didn't belong.
Crash. Crash. Crash.
Eli's blood ran cold. The sound was faint, almost drowned out by the knocking at the door, but it was there—a steady, deliberate crashing that sent a chill down his spine. It was the sound of something being broken, smashed, as if someone—or something—was tearing through the walls of the museum.
He turned toward the source of the noise, his body tense, every muscle on high alert. The helmet's visor limited his field of vision, but he could hear the crashing growing louder, closer. It was coming from the other side of the museum, far from where they were standing.
"Cass…" Eli's voice was a strained whisper, his throat tight with fear. "Do you hear that?"
Cass, who had been focused on the door, glanced over at him, her eyes narrowing. "What is it?"
"There's something…" Eli hesitated, straining to listen, his heart racing. "There's something inside the museum. On the other side."
The realization hit Cass like a bolt of lightning, her eyes widening as she processed Eli's words. The knocking at the front door, the crashing from the other side—this wasn't just a random attack. It was a coordinated effort, a distraction meant to draw their attention away from the real threat.
"They're coming from both sides," Cass muttered, her voice filled with dread. She turned to the group, her tone urgent. "It's a trap. They're trying to force us into a corner."
The others tensed, their expressions shifting from fear to grim determination. Luke moved quickly to the door, peering through a narrow gap in the boards that covered the windows. His face paled as he saw what was outside.
"They're here," he said, his voice low but filled with urgency. "They're trying to get in."
Raya didn't hesitate, moving to reinforce the door with whatever she could find—chairs, wooden beams, anything to buy them time. The rest of the group scrambled into action, bracing for the inevitable breach. Cass pulled Ben closer, her protective instinct kicking in as she scanned the room for a defensible position.
But the crashing from the other side of the museum was growing louder, more intense, as if the looters were tearing through the walls with reckless abandon. The sound was terrifying, a reminder that the museum, for all its strength, was not impenetrable. The looters had found a way in, and they were coming for them.
"We need to split up," Cass ordered, her voice firm despite the rising panic. "Luke, Raya, hold the front. Eli, come with me. We'll check the other side."
Eli's heart pounded in his chest, the helmet on his head feeling heavier than ever as he nodded. He knew this was dangerous, that they were walking into a trap, but there was no choice. They had to act, or they would be overrun.
Cass led the way, her movements quick and precise as she headed toward the source of the crashing. Eli followed close behind, his knife drawn, the weight of the helmet a constant reminder of the pain and fear that had brought him to this point. The sound grew louder as they moved, the crashing echoing through the museum's stone halls, each impact a reminder of the danger they were facing.
They rounded a corner, and the source of the noise became clear. A group of looters, their faces obscured by makeshift masks, were tearing through a wall on the far side of the museum, using crowbars and hammers to smash through the stone and wood. They were relentless, their movements coordinated and brutal as they broke down the museum's defenses.
Eli's blood ran cold as he realized the scale of the attack. The looters were well-organized, methodical in their destruction. They weren't just scavengers looking for easy prey—they were predators, hunting with precision and purpose.
Cass didn't hesitate. She raised her weapon—a makeshift spear crafted from a metal rod—and charged forward, her expression hard and determined. Eli followed, his heart racing, the helmet's narrow visor focusing his vision on the immediate threat.
The first looter didn't see Cass coming. She struck with precision, the spear driving into the man's side with a sickening thud. He cried out, dropping his crowbar as he staggered back, clutching the wound. The other looters reacted quickly, turning to face the new threat, their weapons raised.
Eli's instincts took over, the fear and pain forgotten as he lunged at the nearest looter. His knife found its mark, slicing through fabric and flesh as he fought with everything he had. The looter screamed, swinging a hammer wildly in response, but Eli ducked, the helmet's weight grounding him as he pressed the attack.
But there were too many of them.
Even as Cass and Eli fought with desperate fury, the looters kept coming, their numbers overwhelming. The crashing continued, louder and more frenzied, as more of the wall gave way. The museum's defenses were crumbling, and the looters were pouring in like a flood, their faces twisted with greed and malice.
In the chaos, Eli caught a glimpse of Cass, her spear embedded in the chest of another looter. She was fighting with everything she had, but the odds were against them. More looters were coming, and the front of the museum was under siege as well. They were surrounded, trapped between two forces, with nowhere to run.
Eli's breath came in ragged gasps, the helmet stifling his vision and hearing. The pain in his face and arms was distant, drowned out by the adrenaline and the desperate need to survive. But even as he fought, he knew they were running out of time.
The looters had breached the museum, and the fortress they had worked so hard to build was falling apart around them.
As Eli struck out at another looter, his mind raced, searching for a way out, a way to save the group. But the options were dwindling, the walls closing in as the looters pressed their advantage.
They had to find a way to turn the tide—or they would all be lost.
And then, as if to underscore the urgency of the situation, Eli heard a new sound—a deep, resonant crash from the front of the museum, followed by the unmistakable splintering of wood.
The looters at the door had broken through.